


Upon the Shore

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fisherman Hanzo Shimada, Hook-Up, Lifeguard Jesse McCree, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Looking back at the man, Jesse takes him in, humming in appreciation. He’s built like a brick shithouse—all muscle in his arms and neck and traps to utterly die for. His calves, when exposed with the rolling waves, are insanely muscular. It’s obvious he loves the water as much as Jesse, the cresting waves on his shorts are a dead giveaway, sinfully drawing his attention to his round and perfect ass, andfuck, Jesse’s going to sit here and enjoy this show.





	1. The Catch

**Author's Note:**

> Proudly brought to you by my unyielding thirst for Wave Hanzo. 
> 
> There are somewhat descriptive scenes of Hanzo catching fish. I'm not sure it warrants a warning but it is intended for the purpose of catching and eating so in case this isn't your thing, this is a warning.
> 
> Also, lifeguard McCree with a little twist...

“Yep, this is the life.”

Jesse groans in pleasure as he stretches out on the inflatable lounger, pointing his toes towards the ocean. He crosses one leg over the other, watching the waves crash onto the sand, rolling in then back out. 

Breathing in deeply, the salt air fills his lungs, and he exhales in a sigh. Aside from the roar of the ocean, it’s silent; he’s far enough from the resort on this island that there’s not a soul in sight. 

It’s perfect.

As much as Jesse loves the beach, taking to it like he was born to be in the water, relaxing is a pain in the ass most times. With lifeguarding being the day job, he can’t unwind if there are people around. He’s always on alert, always has eyes on those in the water in the off chance something goes wrong or someone gets in trouble. 

Pools are the worst, though, and Jesse hates them with every fibre of his being. There’s no chance of relaxing poolside, not with the screaming and jumping and running. It’s a disaster waiting to happen and it’s just too stressful.

But getting out, finding a remote island in another country with only a handful of people on it, and then sitting on a stretch of beach with no one else in sight? It doesn’t get better than this. 

Reaching into his cooler, he plucks a bottle of beer, opening it and taking a long pull. A flock of gulls fly overhead, one lands on the sandbank, right on the water’s edge. It walks for a bit, pecking at the sand, snagging what looks to be a small crab before flying off again. 

Jesse closes his eyes, listening to the crash of the waves, the pure power behind each break on the shore, and places his arm under his head, resting on it. The afternoon sun beats down, despite being shaded under an umbrella he can feel it, warm and perfect, and he could fall asleep right here, right now…

* * *

Jesse startles awake when he hears splashing. 

Settling on the figure of a man standing in the water about knee-high, Jesse relaxes again—he's fishing and clearly not in any trouble. Jesse’s not surprised someone else found this absolutely spectacular stretch of beach, and as long as the fisherman doesn't do something stupid and ends up swept out to sea, Jesse doesn't care.

Jesse takes a pull of his warm beer and winces as he swallows, wondering just how long he was asleep. He makes no effort to check the time, he's on vacation, but judging by the positioning of the sun, he was out maybe an hour or two. Insistent on not wasting the expensive brew, he downs the rest, placing the empty bottle back in the cooler. He reaches for a bottle of water and takes a slow sip, watching the man stand as steady as a statue despite the push and pull of the tide, line cast out as he waits for a bite. 

Eyes shifting to the gear on the beach, Jesse spots a couple of duffel bags, a tackle box, and a cooler—it appears as if he might be here for the long haul. 

Looking back at the man, Jesse takes him in, humming in appreciation. He’s built like a brick shithouse—all muscle in his arms and neck and traps to utterly die for. His calves, when exposed with the backwash, are insanely muscular. It’s obvious he loves the water as much as Jesse, the cresting waves on his shorts are a dead giveaway, sinfully drawing his attention to his round and perfect ass, and _fuck,_ Jesse’s going to sit here and enjoy this show.

The end of the rod dips and the man pulls back on it hard. He reels in the line, tugging back and fighting his catch until eventually, a floundering fish pops out of the water. The man takes hold of it, grabs pliers hanging off his belt, removes the hook from the fish's mouth before tossing it back into the ocean. He baits the hook again from a pouch on his belt and casts his line back into the surf. 

Jesse exhales slowly, stuttered. He never considered fishing to be sexy, but that man made it _pornographic_. The gratuitous display of muscle, the raw power behind each pull of the rod as he reeled in that fish is possibly the single most sexy thing Jesse has ever witnessed. It’s just a shame that the man’s back is hidden behind the vest he’s got on; Jesse _knows_ he's ripped under there. 

Keeping his lusty thoughts at bay, he analyses the man’s frankly impressive full sleeve tattoo on his left arm. It's a gorgeous piece of art—not unlike the man himself—appreciating the intricate nature of the waves, the scales on the koi that wrap around his arm, the bursts of flowers. The man has another tattoo that covers his deltoid on his right arm, that could possibly be in the early stages of becoming a full sleeve.

But coupled with his long hair tied up in a high, loose bun, his undercut, and the full beard, this man is _the_ living embodiment of Jesse’s type. He might just ask the stranger for a drink or two once he’s done fishing, see where it takes him.

The stranger pulls back on his rod again, and Jesse cannot help but grin, watching the display. He feels himself getting a little hard, staring at the man’s bulging biceps, and he can almost imagine him biting his lip, concentrating hard on not losing his catch. Shit, every muscle would be tensed as he reels in that fish, hard under Jesse's fingertips... Jesse takes a large gulp of water to cool off. 

With one final pull, the fish is pulled out of the water, a large tuna by the look of it which makes the man all the more impressive. Instead of coming back onshore with his catch, though, he sets it free again. Seems like he’s only catch and release fishing today. 

He doesn’t bait his line this time, packing it up instead. When he turns around, Jesse has to pick his jaw up off the floor. He’s ripped, but nothing really prepared Jesse for the prospect of him having his vest open, showing off his stunning, chiselled abs. The tattoos cover his pecs, making him sexier than Jesse had imagined. His shorts are ridiculously low on his hips, he's got the most impressive inguinal crease Jesse's ever seen, and he’s hairless— _very_ hairless by the look of it. What Jesse wouldn’t give to slip his fingers inside his shorts and pull them down, confirming that fact. 

The man doesn’t make eye contact with Jesse as he approaches his bag, which is honestly a good thing given his leering. He kneels on the sand and pulls out a bow—

“What the fuck,” Jesse murmurs, sitting up for a better look. He’s seen a lot of ways to fish thanks to his day job—spearfishing in shallow water, people in the open ocean in dinghies with only a single piece of fishing line and a hook with no bait, rich folk in big fancy pants yachts with expensive automated rods. But he’s never seen someone fish with a _bow_. 

The man pulls out the shaft of an arrow from his bag, then an arrowhead from his tackle box, screwing it on. It has two barbs on it that he tests, and that thing is fucking lethal. Standing up, he connects the arrow to the line on his bow and steps out onto the water. Jesse’s sure it’ll be futile, there’s no way he’ll be able to actually land a hit with a bow, but it’ll be entertaining nonetheless. 

Jesse takes one last gulp of water before capping it again, placing it back in the cooler and reaching for another bottle of beer. The man stands in the water, bow in his hand and arrow loosely nocked, and does nothing. For a long damn while. Jesse knows from his swim earlier _and_ the man’s fishing that this area is teeming with fish so he highly doubts that they suddenly all disappeared. Maybe he’s meditating, becoming one with the ocean. Or waiting for a sizable fish, since that arrow is clearly intended for a catch. 

He draws his arrow, aiming off to his left side, and after a moment, fires into the water about six feet in front of him. Reeling in the line until it’s no longer slack, he bends down to pluck the arrow, and with it, a large tuna, limp on the shaft. Impressively, the man scored himself a headshot. It's humane, Jesse supposes; this way the fish doesn’t suffer in a bucket of shallow water. 

The man comes back onto shore, approaching his gear. He sets the fish down onto the lid of his cooler, screws off the arrowhead, removes the shaft, and places the fish inside. He attaches the arrowhead again, resting it on the cooler before standing and removing his belt, dropping it in the bag. That's when he makes eye contact with Jesse, eyes snapping to him like a magnet to metal. He holds the stare for a moment, then, slowly and seductively and without breaking eye contact, he shrugs off his vest, dropping it on top of his gear.

He stands there for what seems like an eternity, _knowing_ that Jesse is looking at him, and _fuck_ does Jesse stare, resisting the urge to be a complete fool and pull down his sunglasses to take in that positively alluring image. The man has an impressive physique, his broad shoulders taper off into a narrow waist, there's not a single ounce of body fat on him. This is the kind of guy who spends _hours_ of every day in a gym, who probably gets off on tourists ogling him. With that thought, Jesse's eyes snap to meet the stranger's, and he plays it cool, raising his beer in a toast.

Arrow in hand, the man gives a nod in return, turns his back on Jesse once more, and pulls up his shorts as he heads back into the water. It does nothing but perfectly frame that muscular ass of his, and Lord have _mercy_ , it’s breathtaking. 

He dives headfirst into the surf, and Jesse entertains the idea of joining him in the water. It’s late enough in the afternoon now that he can get away without applying more sun protection, but now that his semi is now a fully-fledged erection, which he shifts slowly and carefully up near his hip because he knows the thing will poke out the bottom of his teensy shorts if he's not careful, he can’t exactly _move_ from this spot.

He briefly thinks about packing it in, jerking off back in his room but then he’d miss out on _this_ , the sexy stranger out in the water as he pops back up to the surface, wiping his face with his hand as he settles on Jesse once more. Jesse wants to be here when he inevitably comes back to shore. 

It happens sooner than Jesse anticipated, turns out it was just a quick dip and a clean of the arrow, and imagination absolutely does not compare to real life as he steps out of the water. The afternoon sun glistens on his wet skin, accentuating the rise and dip of his abs. Jesse’s eyes drop lower, drawn to his shorts, clinging to his skin and shaping the outline of his package.

Jesse sucks in a breath, places his hand over his dick to hide it as it positively throbs. He grips his beer bottle tight as the stranger lifts his arms, showing off his amazing figure which is all muscle and sinew, and at this stage this little show has to be wholly fucking intentional.

Dropping the arrow back into the tackle box haphazardly, the man takes off his headband, wrapping it around his wrist before untying his hair. It falls just above nipple length, and he sweeps it over to his right side as he wrings it, water dripping onto the sand below. Then, he reaches into his bag for a towel, making eye contact with Jesse again as he wipes himself down seductively. The bastard knows exactly what he's doing when he dries his abdomen, pulling on his skin and highlighting the muscles underneath.

Without thinking, Jesse squeezes his cock tight for the pulse of pure pleasure. He bites back a moan and lifts his glasses, resting them on his head, making sure the stranger knows he’s watching. 

It's subtle, but Jesse catches the little upwards quirk of the man's lips. All of a sudden, Jesse feels like one of those fish he caught earlier. He drops the towel back into his bag, then kneels beside his gear and starts digging in the sand.

“Now what are you up to?” Jesse murmurs. The stranger makes a circle, two or three feet wide and maybe a foot deep, and it's only when he opens the second bag, revealing kindling, does Jesse realise that he’s building a fire. Beach bonfires are prohibited on all of the beaches Jesse has worked but didn’t see any signs here saying it _wasn’t_ allowed, and he sure as shit isn’t going to question a local. 

Unsurprisingly, the man builds and lights the fire quickly, expertly like he’s been doing this all his life, adding larger sticks on top to grow the fire. Once it’s burning fiercely, he throws on a small log and sits back, hands settling on his knees. He glances at Jesse then, a smirk that’s equal parts dangerous and sexy teasing his lips. “Would you like to join me?”

Jesse cannot help but grin. “Ain’t goin’ to say no,” he says, standing. He’s glad that fire building is quite boring and gave him the time to cool off, his dick has gone down back to semi territory and he can move without revealing his thirst for the stranger. Reaching into his cooler, Jesse grabs his last two bottles of beer before approaching him. “Jesse,” he says, holding his hand out.

The man takes his hand, his grip is firm, strong, and of course, the image that hand wrapped around his dick appears in his mind. “Hanzo.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Jesse says, handing him the beer. He sits on the sand, popping the cap on his bottle. Hanzo opens his hand, Jesse hands him the cap, and he tosses them into his tackle box. “Thanks. I gotta say, seeing you out there with your bow was impressive. Ain’t seen anything like it in my life.”

“I am glad you enjoyed it.”

Jesse looks on, speechless, as Hanzo leers at him. He decides to put his mouth to good use, taking a long pull of beer, hoping his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. Hanzo doesn’t say anything after that, doesn’t even react to what Jesse _thought_ was seductive, but he shrugs it off. “So, you regularly fish and build fires on this beach?”

Hanzo huffs a laugh, stoking the fire with a stick. “I live here, and the owner does not mind.”

Jesse hums, looking out to the ocean. “Gorgeous place to live.”

“It is quiet, but it has its perks.” 

Jesse takes another pull. He glances at Hanzo and Hanzo is staring back at him, a sly little smirk on his lips. 

“The company of tourists is excellent.”

Chuckling as those thoughts of exploring every inch of Hanzo’s glorious body fills his mind, he leans back, stretching out and resting his weight on his elbow. “So this ain’t a once-off?”

“No, you are not my first,” Hanzo replies, voice low and dangerous and _sexy_. “I regularly invite anyone who is on my beach if they would like to join me for dinner.” He gestures to the cooler with his bottle. “The fish is as fresh as it can get.”

“Well then, I’d love to join you.” Jesse looks Hanzo up and down none too subtly, taking him in. “Anything I can do to repay the favour?” It sounds straight out of a porno but he doesn’t care, he _needs_ this man, and Hanzo’s clearly interested in him with all the leering he’s doing. 

Hanzo raises an eyebrow. “Did you have something in mind?” He’s playing coy, but he rests his beer bottle high on his thigh, right next to his groin, like it _isn’t_ a damn invitation. 

Jesse hums, embedding his bottle into the sand so it doesn’t tip over before sliding up next to Hanzo. “This part of your usual schtick?” he murmurs, reaching out and running his fingers through his wavy hair gently to not snag it on a tangle. “Put on a show for the tourist, invite ‘em to dinner, get sex in return?” 

Hanzo’s hand settles on Jesse’s upper thigh, right next to the main show, and Jesse sucks in a breath. “It has a high success rate.”

“How high?” Jesse whispers, leaning in to kiss Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo’s hand slides up a little higher to settle on his cock, palming him, and Jesse groans against his skin. 

“I fuck those who agree to join me for dinner.”

Jesse licks a stripe up Hanzo's neck, tasting the ocean on his skin. "And what if they don't want to be fucked?" he whispers in his ear, grazing his teeth on his earlobe. 

"I don't ask them to join me for dinner," Hanzo replies, too coolly for Jesse's liking. Seems he'll have to try a little harder. 

“Well let me tell you, honey,” Jesse murmurs against his skin before pulling up. He drags his fingernails through his beard. “You put on a show so good, it got me all hot and bothered.” He leans in slowly, brushing his nose on Hanzo’s cheek as he grazes his lips against Hanzo’s. He pulls back then, looking him in the eye, and Hanzo’s other hand curls around the back of his neck, closing the distance between them. 

Hanzo doesn’t hold back, eagerly licking into his mouth. Jesse whimpers, muffled, both thanking his lucky stars and surprised at Hanzo’s eagerness. He drops his hand then, palming Hanzo through his shorts, feeling how hard he already is.

Jesse breaks off the kiss, looking Hanzo in the eyes, just for a moment, before kissing down his chest, down the bare stripe between the tattoos on his pecs and over those hard as fuck abs. 

_Finally_ , he hooks his fingers inside the band of Hanzo's shorts. He pulls apart the velcro slowly, relishing in the fact that he is hairless and exposing the base of his dick.

Looking Hanzo in the eye, he reaches into his shorts, wrapping his hand around his cock and pulling it out. He tugs shallowly, mouth absolutely watering when he pulls back the foreskin, revealing the glans. He adjusts to lie on his side so Hanzo can continue to palm him, and looking him in the eye, he licks him from base to tip.

He grunts in pure pleasure when Hanzo slides his hand into his shorts and takes a hold of him tightly, his dick positively throbs. Not wasting any time, he wraps his lips around Hanzo’s cock, bobbing up and down quickly, taking him as far as he can manage for the moment. Jesse knows it won’t take much for him to come, not with how horny he is since sex on the beach is an ultimate fantasy of his. 

In all honesty, he doesn’t think that Hanzo will take long, not with his rough tugging, his quiet moans. Hanzo takes hold of Jesse’s hair in a tight handful, and he’s rough, controlling the speed of his own blowjob with the push on Jesse's head and pull of his hair, and Jesse adjusts to what Hanzo wants without a second thought. There's just something so hot about people taking control of their own pleasure. 

Taking him deeper still, enough that he can feel him at the back of his mouth, Jesse hums. Hanzo lets slip a moan, quick and loud, and Jesse pulls back and off him, taking him in his fist and tugging as he looks into Hanzo's lust-filled eyes. 

Hanzo doesn't say anything, just bites his lip and tightens his grip. His hand doesn't move from Jesse's head though, he doesn't guide him back to his dick either. 

Glancing down at himself as he pushes down his shorts, the moment he sees Hanzo's hand around his cock, Jesse's hips jerk. He can feel just how close he is now, though, edging closer to orgasm, the pressure in his core almost reaching critical mass. Looking up at Hanzo and with a sly smirk, Jesse licks against Hanzo's slit, relishing in Hanzo's stuttered exhale. He takes Hanzo in his mouth again, bobbing up and down eagerly.

Hanzo moans again, he moves his hand off Jesse's head and onto his shoulder, gripping tightly. “I’m close,” he mutters, “you do not have to—”

Jesse doesn’t give Hanzo the opportunity to finish that statement, breathing in and relaxing so he can take him all the way; down his throat, nose brushing against skin. 

His eyes flutter closed, and it's an absurd time to have the thought, but the gravity of this situation, giving this man whom he just met a blowjob on a beach where someone could easily stumble upon them weighs heavily on his shoulders. 

He feels his own pleasure, the pressure almost insurmountable, snapping him back into the present. He hears the crackle of the fire behind him, the waves crashing on the shore, the image of someone watching from afar, giving in to their own guilty pleasure and jerking off to _them_ , and it’s enough to tip him over the edge, coming apart.

Jesse pulls up to take a breath, and Hanzo presses down on Jesse’s head. Taking him all the way again and swallowing around him for good measure, Hanzo lets slip a delicious, desperate, pleasurable moan before muttering something that Jesse doesn't quite catch. 

Feeling the subtle twitch of Hanzo's cock, Jesse pulls up when Hanzo lifts his hand away, instinctively swallowing. He holds him loosely in his fist, taking a deep breath and licking the come beading at his slit, looking him in the eyes as he swipes the head of his cock against his bottom lip slowly. 

“You are sinful,” Hanzo breathes.

"Ain’t the first time I’ve heard that,” Jesse says, sucking on the tip of Hanzo’s cock lightly. Hanzo bites his lip, pinches Jesse's chin, and Jesse sits up, only to be pulled in for a searing kiss. Hanzo is addictive, eagerly licking into his mouth, and Jesse lets himself be carried away by it, cupping the back of Hanzo’s head, scrunching his hand through his hair. 

Hanzo sighs through his nose, the kiss recedes and he rests his forehead against Jesse’s. “I don’t normally ask this, but would you like to come back to my house after this?”

Jesse cannot help but chuckle. “Don't usually ask your conquests to join you for round two?”

“Do not make me rescind the invitation,” Hanzo replies with a deadly seriousness that sends a shiver down Jesse’s spine. He imagines that voice on the bedroom, giving commands, and wonders if it's too much to ask the man he just met, granted the man he just blew, to order him around. 

“A’ight, a’ight,” Jesse says coolly, swiping his thumb against Hanzo’s cheek. “I’d love to join you after.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jesse murmurs, literally counting down the minutes until they're back at Hanzo's place, where he can see him in all of his naked glory, maybe even fuck him. 

He quivers at the thought. 

But there is the problem of dinner, and Jesse realises that he's famished. Sex can wait.

Puling up his shorts, Jesse glances at the fire. “Looks close for cooking.”

Hanzo hovers his hand about a foot over the fire. “Close,” he says. Then he grabs a wooden board and a knife out of his bag, handing it to Jesse with a devious little smirk on his lips. “Do you know how to clean a fish?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, this is a work of fiction. Please practice safe oral sex irl.


	2. Reeling In

Hanzo is an amazing guy.

He’s smart and funny, an amazing storyteller, and has a wicked sense of humour. He considered himself a nomad before he settled down on this island, he’s seen the world three times over in his almost four decades of life. But despite it all, he prefers the familiar waters of home. 

Of course, Jesse learned all about him _after_ cleaning the fish. Jesse's proud to admit that he required minimal instruction; he's no stranger to the concept. It didn't stop Hanzo from testing the limits of his abilities with hushed commands purred into his ear and soft kisses pressed to his neck.

Hanzo took over after the cleaning, seasoning it with a blend of herbs and spices he absolutely refused to divulge and wrapping it in a banana leaf to protect it. The second it was over the fire, Hanzo jumped him and they made out. Jesse wanted to do more than just feel him up all over again, but it wasn't possible given the quick cook time. 

Eating the best, most perfectly cooked piece of tuna he's ever tasted, they chatted about everything over dinner. Jesse told him about his life, moving from beach to beach along the west coast of the States before settling at Pacific Beach in San Diego. He told him stories of the people he saved, from those who almost drowned to kids who lost their toy. Despite coming with losses, the job is rewarding. 

There wasn’t much of a discussion about family. Jesse told Hanzo about how supportive his folks were with him moving out of home with his then-girlfriend-now-best-friend Liz to be closer to the ocean, how they both took up lifeguarding, and despite almost twenty years later, they still live and work together. Jesse asked Hanzo about his family and Hanzo was quick to deflect the question. Jesse didn’t press on further than that. 

After, they drank beer and watched the sun set over the ocean. It was romantic—or rather, _would_ have been if Hanzo were his boyfriend, not a guy he sucked off not two hours ago. 

Though he supposes that there might be something more here with the extended invitation. Not that Jesse expects anything other than another fuck or two before the bubble pops and they go their separate ways. Jesse’s got a life back in the States to go back to with quite the story to tell Liz, and Hanzo will go back to living a life of solitude until another tourist comes onto this stretch of beach he’s claimed for himself and fucks them too. 

Jesse feels a surprising pang of jealousy at that thought.

It’s stupid to even think there _might_ be something more. Yeah, Hanzo doesn’t normally ask his conquests to join him back at his place, but that doesn’t make Jesse any more special than the last person who was asked. Where are they now? Does Hanzo even remember their names?

Not that Jesse should judge. Hanzo is just a casual hookup, another person he’s fucked. And Jesse’s fucked a _lot_ of people in his time. Warm weather makes people horny, and spending a lot of his time in nothing but a pair of lifeguard shorts gets people’s motor running. 

It’s clearly worked on Hanzo, at the very least. Hell, it worked on him, too.

And yet, as Jesse makes his way up the makeshift sandy path between shrubs leading to a house practically on the shore’s edge, he cannot help but think about moving to Japan to lifeguard so he can be closer to Hanzo. 

“Please, make yourself at home,” Hanzo says as he steps into his living area. 

Jesse looks around, frankly stunned at how nice it is. Not that he expected anything otherwise, if Hanzo has the money to live on this island, he’d have a nice house. It honestly didn’t look like much from the front, it was weathered and in need of a good coat of paint, but inside, looking around the large open plan living room, dining room and kitchen, it’s hardwood floors, fireplace, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. 

Setting his things down by the front door, Jesse slides off his flip flops. He enters the living area, drawn to the large TV, the artwork on the walls, the bookshelf lined with novels. There's a single framed photo, Jesse doesn't spend too long looking at it but it's of Hanzo and his brother, he supposes, given the similarities in their looks, taken at brother's graduation. They're both smiling, brother is holding his diploma and in full academic dress. It's the only photo he's got, so he at least has _some_ family. 

He finally settles on the mahogany bar, the mirrored shelves behind it is stocked with alcohol. Expensive stuff, too, everything looks top-shelf. 

It’s a lot of alcohol for someone living alone. 

“Can I get you anything? A drink?”

Jesse glances at Hanzo and smiles. “Whatever you’re having.”

Hanzo looks at him for a long while, tapping his finger to his lips. Wordlessly, he heads over to the bar, places two tumblers onto the top before picking up a bottle of bourbon. He pours it into the glasses before heading back round, handing it to Jesse. “Am I correct?”

Chuckling, Jesse looks into the glass. “Absolutely. It’s uncanny how you can read people like that.”

Hanzo gestures to the couch, and Jesse sits. “Skills obtained in a former life.”

Jesse watches Hanzo closely as he stares into the middle distance for a moment before blinking it away. He meets Jesse’s eyes, and for a split second, there’s shame or resentment, _something_ a little off, before it’s replaced with that sly smirk Jesse's grown used to seeing on his face. 

“A toast,” Hanzo says, holding out his glass. “To chance meetings.”

“To sex on the beach,” Jesse replies cheekily, clinking his glass against Hanzo’s. 

Hanzo brings his glass up to his lips, taking a slow sip. How the man can make _that_ overwhelmingly sexy is a true talent. 

Or a sign that despite it all, Jesse’s in a little too deep.

Taking a sip of his own drink so he doesn’t look like the lovestruck fool that he feels, he watches Hanzo carefully, as he rests the glass next to his groin again, as he reaches out with his hand, gently brushing it against the skin on Jesse's bicep. He doesn't say anything, doesn't even meet Jesse's eyes as he rubs little circles onto his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jesse asks.

“Sometimes I wonder about the mechanics of the universe.”

“That’s pretty deep stuff.”

Hanzo hums, teasing the end of his t-shirt sleeve before slipping a finger underneath. “Like how you, wanting peace and quiet, picked _my_ island out of the hundreds, if not thousands worldwide. Then, not going west of the resort, you chose east, finding _my beach_ to relax on.” Hanzo pauses and smiles, finally meeting Jesse's gaze. “The odds are astronomical, and yet,” Hanzo slides closer, his leg presses against Jesse's, “here you are.” Wetting his lips, Hanzo shifts his hand to run through Jesse's hair. “In _my living_ room.” He cups the back of Jesse’s head. “On _my_ couch.” He leans in closer still, so close Jesse can feel the caress of his breath on his lips. “And soon to be in _my_ bed.”

Jesse breathes in Hanzo’s air, smelling the alcohol on his breath and feeling euphoric. Hanzo kisses him, slowly, cautiously, a stark contrast to earlier, and Jesse melts into it, taking it as slow as Hanzo. 

But soon enough, lust takes over and Jesse needs more. He grazes his teeth along Hanzo’s bottom lip gently before licking against it, and Hanzo hums, parting his lips again. Jesse cautiously slides his tongue against Hanzo’s, and the calm between them is shattered like glass. 

Without breaking the kiss, Hanzo climbs onto Jesse’s lap. Hanzo's arms bracket his head, Jesse’s hands settle on his ass. When Hanzo grinds down on him, Jesse groans, wrapping his arm around Hanzo tight so he doesn’t go anywhere. Feeling a little frisky, he slides his hand inside Hanzo's shorts, onto the bare skin of his ass, grabbing a cheek firmly. 

Hanzo stops his grinding then, lifting his hips. The kiss slows, he pulls away to look into Jesse’s eyes, burning with desire. Jesse squeezes again, tighter, and Hanzo bites his lip, nodding subtly. 

Breathing quick and shallow, dick absolutely throbbing, Jesse swipes a finger along his crack. He finds Hanzo’s hole, pressing against it lightly, and Hanzo _moans,_ just a quiet little thing but he clearly enjoyed it. _Christ_ , he wishes he had some lube, right here, right now, so they can fuck on this couch, drinks in hand and everything.

Hanzo dives in again, kissing Jesse hard. Jesse massages his hole, praying to whoever’ll listen that Hanzo’s grinding doesn’t push him over the edge and have him coming in his shorts like a teenager on their first time going to third base. But just as quick as it starts, it stops, Hanzo pulls away and Jesse bites back his whine. 

“I feel horribly dirty," Hanzo says. "I’m going to shower.”

“Okay,” Jesse breathes, feeling all kinds of cold and alone when Hanzo climbs off him. It passes quickly though, when Hanzo takes off his vest again, dropping it to the couch. He heads towards the hallway, and just before rounding the corner, he drops his shorts, leaving them where they fall. “Goddamn,” Jesse murmurs, catching the barest of glimpses at Hanzo’s naked form as he disappears from view. He looks at the abandoned clothing, his erection straining against his shorts, the finger he massaged Hanzo with, and finally, his whiskey, downing the lot. 

“You may join me!”

Jesse chuckles, setting his glass on the coffee table. He follows the sound of the shower, through Hanzo's dimly lit bedroom. He eyes the king-size bed first, then his spectacular view overlooking the ocean; the roar of the waves carries through the open windows. 

Stepping into the adjoining ensuite, he settles on Hanzo, his figure partially hidden behind the fogged glass. He’s standing under the water, head tilted back, hair coming a good halfway down his back, and that gorgeous, beautiful ass on display.

Jesse undresses quicker than he thinks he ever has, stepping inside the shower. He stands flush against Hanzo’s back, his erection pressed against his ass, and kisses his neck softly. Cupping his pec with one hand, sliding the other down his abs, he takes Hanzo's gloriously thick cock in his hand. 

Hanzo hums, tilting his head to the side to give Jesse more room to work. Jesse sucks on his skin, grazing his teeth gently against the spot when he’s done. He shifts down to those delicious traps, biting down with enough pressure to leave little indents in his skin. 

“You like it rough.”

“Sure do,” Jesse murmurs against his skin. “Wanna feel it everywhere. On skin and scalp and lips. I wanna see those marks, days after.”

“I would imagine the sight of hickeys on you would be unprofessional.”

“You’d be surprised, but a long-sleeved shirt is part of the uniform _when_ I choose to wear one. As long as it’s not on the neck it doesn’t matter.” He kisses the nape of Hanzo's neck, licking a stripe up the other side. “You though, ain’t anyone gonna see you.”

“I _do_ regularly attend the local markets and I _do_ have friends. I’m not a hermit.”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Jesse says, sucking on his skin softly, just below his ear. 

“And you will not hear it.”

Smirking against his skin, Jesse sucks a delicious hickey onto his neck, one too high to cover with a shirt. Hanzo goes about cleaning himself like Jesse isn't here, pouring shower gel onto his hand and rubbing it onto his chest. Jesse joins in on the action, running his hand up and down his lathered abs before massaging his pec, pinching his nipple lightly. 

Hanzo seems undeterred, applying more gel to his hand and rubbing both together. He wraps his hand around the base of his dick, and Jesse gets the hint, lifting his away and watching as Hanzo tugs a couple of times before letting go. 

Jesse takes over then, using the residual suds to his advantage and jerking him off slowly. He sucks in a breath when Hanzo’s other hand ends up between them, taking his cock in his hand to mirror Jesse’s actions. 

That unrelenting desire for lube rears its head again, and Jesse reminds himself that shower gel is not an acceptable substitute, that he cannot just stick it in Hanzo right now. Lord, the horror stories he’s read on the internet. 

Instead, he does one better, thrusting into Hanzo’s hand, letting him know just what he’s in for once they’re done with the shower. _That_ gets Hanzo going, he lets slip a small groan, he stops his tugging to let Jesse have his fun. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you when we’re done here,” Jesse whispers in Hanzo’s ear, thrusting a little faster. “Gonna fuck you so hard you’ll see stars.”

Hanzo turns his head, looking Jesse in the eyes, a mischievous little smirk on his lips. “Then why are we fucking around in here?” He cups the back of Jesse’s head, pulling him down into a searing kiss. 

It’s over far too soon, and Hanzo steps to his side and away from Jesse’s grasp. He picks up shampoo and lathers his hair with the speed and insistence of someone running horribly late, and Jesse does the same. He’s quicker, given his hair is shorter, foregoing conditioner to give Hanzo the space to rinse off. Jesse quickly lathers his body with the shower gel as Hanzo conditions his hair, relishing in the feeling of cleanliness after the day exposed to the salt air. 

Jesse steps out of the shower, grabbing a fresh towel from the shelf, drying himself down quickly. He's sure it looks desperate but he doesn't care, he _is_ desperate, wanting nothing more than to ride this wave of desire. 

Tossing the towel into the hamper, Jesse steps into the bedroom and sits on the bed, enjoying the show as Hanzo finishes up in his shower. The glass is completely fogged now so he can't make anything out below Hanzo's chest, but it makes it all the sexier. He can't help it, taking himself in his hand and tugging shallowly when Hanzo makes eye contact with him.

Hanzo turns off the shower, pulls the towel hanging from the top of the door and wraps it around his waist. While it does hide his cock, it just makes it look like a treat as it tents against it. He picks up a second towel, drying his hair with it slowly. Jesse tightens his grip, this whole image is unfairly sexy. 

Once he's done with his hair, he hangs the towel on a hook, using the one around his waist to dry himself. Acting like the world's biggest tease, he keeps his cock covered at all times, seductively focusing on wiping down his pecs, dragging the towel down his torso to pull on his skin and really accentuate his abs. Just as it looks like he's going to drop the towel, he meets Jesse’s gaze with a mischievous little glint in his eyes, before stepping out of view.

Jesse sighs through his nose, letting go of himself and glancing at the nightstand. It’s possibly a little too forward, but he’s more than ready to get this show on the road the second Hanzo’s done in the ensuite. 

Opening the top drawer, he expects lube and condoms, which are there, but _nothing_ prepares him for the green ribbed and textured dildo that absolutely doesn’t resemble a human dick, nor the just as green masturbator next to it. He looks back at the dildo once he realises it has a suction cup on it, and smutty imagery of Hanzo fucking that thing enters his mind— 

“Didn’t your mother tell you it is rude to go through someone else’s personal things?”

Jesse slams the drawer shut, embarrassment and shame taking over the shock. He keeps his eyes down, he can’t look Hanzo in the eye. “Sorry. Was just looking for supplies.”

“And yet...” Hanzo doesn’t say anything more, and Jesse looks up at him. His hair is combed back and draped over one shoulder, he’s still holding the towel over his cock, and he’s got that same playful glint in his eye. He drops the towel, revealing his erection, and for the first time, Jesse gets his first proper look at him in all of his naked glory. “You do not have them.”

“I uh…” Jesse chuckles nervously. Does he say he saw the toys? He _could_ argue that he didn’t, because he _is_ ashamed that he got caught looking where he shouldn't, but they were practically radioactive waste green, impossible to miss. 

He ultimately decides on feigning ignorance, because if a man prefers to fuck himself with a green alien dong, then that's his business. “You just caught me by surprise is all.”

“Well then,” Hanzo purrs, stepping forward until he is between his legs, “what are you waiting for?” He crouches down, and with his hands on Jesse's knees, he spreads his legs further apart. Hanzo makes eye contact with him, smirking slyly as he drags his hands up Jesse's thighs. 

Jesse sucks in a breath as Hanzo cups his balls with one hand, wrapping the other around his cock and tugging shallowly. He exhales, slow and stuttered when he's engulfed in the delicious wet heat of Hanzo’s mouth. Resisting the urge to fall back onto the bed in a boneless heap at the feel of his velvety smooth tongue running circles around the head of his cock, Jesse grabs fistfuls of the duvet instead. 

Hanzo doesn’t break eye contact with him at all, but his frown deepens. _What are you waiting for?_ repeats in his mind, and Jesse feels like this is some kind of test. Hanzo _has_ to know that Jesse fixated on the toys, why the fuck else would he be insisting? 

Taking a breath, because delaying the inevitable will only make things more awkward, he opens the drawer, grabs the lube and a condom, places both on the nightstand in one smooth movement without giving the toys another glance. 

It seems that was all Hanzo was waiting for, as the second the drawer is closed, Hanzo dives in, bobbing up and down like his life depended on it. Jesse cups the back of his head, relaxing, actually _enjoying_ this blowjob now that the embarrassment of what he saw in the draw starts to fade.

In its place though, comes curiosity, and he wonders what Hanzo looks like riding the dildo. It's tempting to ask him for a demonstration, but that could be seen as perverted. But why else would he have the thing just lying in his top drawer, instead of in its protective bag and hidden under layers of junk?

Then he remembers that Hanzo doesn’t ask people to come over and spend the night. That he prefers solitude. Why _would_ he hide his toys?

But those are thoughts he shouldn’t be having while the hottest guy he's had the pleasure of hooking up with is blowing him. Looking down at Hanzo, at his hair hanging over his left shoulder, Jesse takes it in a handful, holding it back for him. Hanzo glances at him, pulling up slowly, applying a shitton of suction that is bordering on painful but it feels so fucking good, until the head of his cock pops out of his mouth. Licking against his slit eagerly, Jesse's cock twitches as a jolt of pleasure surges through him. If Jesse wasn’t desperate to fuck him, he’d give in and come all over that pretty face of his. 

Hanzo gives one last, long lick of his cock from base to tip and over his slit before climbing onto his lap. He takes both their cocks into his hand, squeezing tight, and crashing their lips together. 

Jesse's hands settle on Hanzo's ass, kneading keenly. He spreads him, massaging his hole again, and Hanzo grunts in pure pleasure, pushing back on his finger eagerly. Taking it for the hint that it is, Jesse swipes the lube from the nightstand, pouring a generous amount on his fingers and massaging again. 

Breaking off the kiss, Hanzo looks into Jesse's eyes. He bites his lip when Jesse pushes in with his index finger, and Jesse's head falls to Hanzo's chest, feeling that eager pull. 

"Fuck," Jesse murmurs against Hanzo's skin when he rocks his hips. He keeps his hand still, kissing Hanzo's chest, letting himself be used as Hanzo takes full control again. 

"More."

Jesse instantly complies, prodding against him with a second finger. Hanzo takes that one easily too, without so much as a moan. Jesse realises he's going to have to work for a response, and that is more than fine with Jesse, the awkward angle is his fingers are nothing compared to his dick. 

Dotting kisses along Hanzo's chest, over the swell of his pec to his nipple, Jesse licks and sucks the hardened bud. _That_ gets the response Jesse's after, the holy trifecta of a moan, a hand in his hair, and a hip jerk. It spurns him on, grazing his teeth against his flesh, biting down with enough force to leave more indents, before pursing his lips around his nipple again. 

"Enough," Hanzo says, breathless. He tightens his grip on Jesse's hair, pulling his head back. "Get. _Inside_. Me."

"Well," Jesse says slyly, looking down at their cocks squeezed together, Hanzo's hand wrapped tightly around them. He feels another jolt of pleasure, licking his too dry lips. "You're the one with the hand on the goods."

Hanzo tsks, and Jesse glances up in time to catch the tail end of his eye roll. "Must I do _everything_?" He reaches for the condom, opening the packet with his teeth, insistent on not letting go of their cocks. 

"You're a snarky bastard when you're horny," Jesse says, grinning as he watches Hanzo roll the condom down his erection. “Bangry, I’d call you.”

"You have been teasing me," Hanzo mutters, picking the lube off the bed, "all day. I am unsure if you are aware, but you were hard while you were asleep."

"Must've been an amazing dream," Jesse replies, not that he remembers it. He knows he should be embarrassed, or ashamed, perhaps, at the thought of Hanzo catching him hard without his knowledge, but dicks have minds of their own, so it's not like he _intentionally_ got a boner for the world to see.

And honestly, he doesn't give a fuck because it got him laid. 

“And your shorts can barely be called shorts.”

Jesse smirks at Hanzo. He's almost pouting, like he's taken personal offence to this whole situation. “You’re telling me.”

Hanzo stands on his knees, taking Jesse's cock in his hand. He swipes it along his crack before rubbing it against his hole, and the pressure as he sinks down painstakingly slowly is almost too much to bear. Jesse holds onto Hanzo's hips tight, hard enough he'll probably leave bruises. 

Lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded, Hanzo pulls back on Jesse’s hair to kiss his neck. Jesse revels in every single glorious inch Hanzo takes, between the burn on his scalp and Hanzo in his lap, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold on too long. 

Gasping when Hanzo sucks high on his neck and languidly rolls his hips, Jesse’s hands fall to his ass, pushing and pulling in time with Hanzo’s rocking. When he’s done leaving his mark, Hanzo pulls back with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

"A reminder," Hanzo murmurs, placing a hand on Jesse’s chest and pushing him down onto the bed.

"Well I hope you don't mind if I kiss and tell," Jesse says, linking his fingers with Hanzo's when he takes his hands, "'cause questions will be asked when I get back home." Jesse's hands are pulled above his head, and when he pushes against Hanzo's, he struggles to move them. “You’re strong, you know that? Reckon you could crush someone with your strength.”

Hanzo looks down at him, frowning. “Are you always this talkative when your mouth isn’t otherwise occupied?”

“Got a lot to say,” Jesse replies, winking.

“Well then,” Hanzo purrs, entering his space. “Let’s do something about that.” He dives in, kissing Jesse hard, eagerly licking into his mouth. He picks up his pace, and Jesse loses himself in it. He’d love to tangle his fingers in Hanzo’s hair, ball it up in his fist and leave another hickey on him, but that can wait. 

Jesse will let Hanzo have his fun before _really_ showing him a good time.

The kiss recedes, and Hanzo pulls up, finally letting go of his hands to drag his fingers down his arms. He digs his fingernails in, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, and Jesse groans, back arching off the bed; he’s going to have scratch marks for _days_ , and he shudders at the thought.

Hanzo kisses along his collarbone, onto his chest, and sucks another hickey on his pec, just above his nipple. Jesse sweeps Hanzo's hair away from his face, holding it for the moment, and the second Hanzo pulls his head up to look at his work with a grin, Jesse smirks, wraps his other arm around Hanzo's waist and rolls them. Hanzo lands with a groan, a subtle frown teases his brows, but otherwise doesn’t say anything as he wraps his legs around Jesse’s waist.

Jesse takes over then, rolling his hips. He starts slow, which lasts all of two seconds as a strike of pleasure shoots through him when Hanzo’s face relaxes in pure pleasure. “Like it when people take back control?”

Narrowing his eyes, Hanzo moves to wrap his arms around Jesse’s chest, but Jesse pulls up; he's not having _any_ of that.

“Nuh-uh.” Jesse sits on his knees and unhooks Hanzo’s legs from around him. Grasping Hanzo's ankles, he pushes his legs back onto his chest, thrusting slowly and watching his cock appear then disappear inside Hanzo. A shiver cascades down his spine, wracking his entire body. “Told you I was gonna take real good care of you, remember?”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

Biting his lip, Jesse pulls out. “Onto your stomach.” He sees the flash of lust in Hanzo's eyes just before he rolls over, and Jesse gives him a moment to grab the towel off the floor and lay it under him, taking the opportunity to relube. When Hanzo’s got his head on his pillow, arms under them, Jesse spreads his cheeks, lining him at his hole and pushing in. He eases in slowly, not stopping until his hips are flush against Hanzo, and puts his weight onto him, kissing those traps. 

Rolling his hips again, slowly, languidly, Jesse sucks another hickey onto his skin. Hanzo writhes under him, and Jesse pulls up. “Too much?”

“You are heavier than you look,” Hanzo says, breathless, lifting himself onto his elbows. 

“A’ight,” Jesse says, placing a hand on his waist. “Come up.” He follows Hanzo as he lifts his hips and props his weight onto his hands. “Better?”

Hanzo looks over his shoulder and smirks. “Much.”

With a chuckle, because Hanzo’s asked for this, he pulls out slowly, until it’s just the tip inside him, and holds still. 

“You are a—”

Jesse doesn’t give him the opportunity to finish that statement, slamming his hips into him hard. Hanzo moans, long and loud, and Jesse takes his hair into his fist, wrapping it around his hand and pulling his head back. He leans over him, nose brushing against his ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

Hanzo nods, and Jesse pulls back up, fucking him hard. Each slap of skin against skin is accompanied with a moan from Hanzo, louder and more delicious than the last, leaving Jesse’s head swimming in pure pleasure. He teeters on the edge of orgasm too quickly for his liking, and he slows to a grind and rolls his hips in little circles for the cool down. 

It only lasts a moment before Hanzo’s pushing back against him, looking over his shoulder with a devious smirk on his lips. “Tired, are you?”

Jesse scoffs. “In your dreams.”

“In my dreams, you’re fucking me relentlessly.”

“Think about me fucking you much?” Jesse starts up again, albeit slower than before. 

“All afternoon and evening.”

Jesse hums, sliding his hand over his Hanzo’s hip, his groin, wrapping it around his cock and tugging, relishing in Hanzo’s hip jerk. “How’d it end?”

“Spectacularly.” Hanzo moans, tightening around him when Jesse rubs his thumb over his leaking slit, massaging the head. 

“Good to know I’m a stud in your dreams, too,” Jesse murmurs. Molten heat spills over, and he can’t hold on anymore. He chases his orgasm, tugging Hanzo to match his jerky thrusts. Hanzo tightens around him again, moaning long and loud and music to his fucking ears, and that’s the push Jesse needs to fall, bracing himself on the bed and moaning against Hanzo's skin as he comes. 

When Hanzo exhales slowly, looking over his shoulder, Jesse lets go of him, placing a hand over his thumping heart and kissing him softer, gentler than they have this entire day. Hanzo pulls away, looking at Jesse with a mischievous little glint in his eye.“I have to say, that was better than I had imagined.”

Jesse chuckles. “Good to know. I’d imagine you’d have pretty high standards.”

“Pretty high,” Hanzo says with a flirty little shrug. He doesn't take his eyes off Jesse, his mouth hangs open for a moment before snapping shut. Whatever he was going to say, he keeps to himself. 

Jesse pulls out slowly, stepping into the bathroom to clean up. Hanzo’s behind him, and once Jesse’s taken a piss, he leaves Hanzo in peace, lying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He didn’t think he’d fuck someone on his vacation, he honestly wasn’t looking to, but here he is, in Hanzo’s bed, fucked out and ready for sleep. 

Hanzo steps back into the room, eyes settling on Jesse. He doesn't break his stride, and that eager smile doesn't leave his lips as he climbs into bed. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I stay the night. Don’t wanna traverse the island at this time, it was a bit of a climb to get here.”

“Of course not,” Hanzo replies quickly. He shuts off the lamp, turning onto his side. “It is dangerous at night, and I'd worry that you would get swept away.”

“Wouldn't want that.”

Hanzo places a hand on Jesse’s chest, so quickly Jesse deems it possessive. “No, I would not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which my vanilla ass perused Bad Dragon for the first time and... 😳
> 
> But. Paul Nakauchi is a fucking gift that keeps on giving, and us mere mortals are not worthy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) Come say hi!


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